Links of Time and Trust
by Angel-Mogamishi
Summary: "...he's sensitive, people bully him, too, and he feels lonely and hasn't got anybody to talk to, and he's not afraid to show his feelings and cry!" - Moaning Myrtle. Isabelle Evans could be Draco's saving grace, or his ultimate downfall.
1. The Playground

The playground was big, by most standards. There were the typical monkey bars that were nothing more than metal bars connected in a ladder fashion that hung parallel to the ground, leading into a giant metal structure. Of course, the athletically challenged preferred to take the stairs up. There was also a chain ladder that had smaller children focusing on balance, and a plastic easily climbed rock wall for kids who wanted to feel accomplished. The structure itself was three stories. A fire-pole and the traditional 'giant slide' were both located at the third level, along with some useless steering wheels that kids would use to play 'air plane' or some other pointless game. The second level held some smaller slides, one of them being the strange twisted kind that kids climbed up when they wanted to feel empowered and strong, as well as the boards that were meant to teach children sign language, and how to play games like tic-tac-toe.

A little further away, in a mulched area lay the swings, four small swings that looked like an oversized diaper harness for the babies to be pushed on. Further to the right were the 'big kid swings', for the children who have outgrown the baby harnesses. They were too close to the ground to get any real air. The further you got the higher up the swings were, until you reached the area where teens had tangled the swings in the high beam that it hung from to keep it out of their younger siblings reach.

The main attraction for the children however, was the giant spinning circle in the center of the grounds. They go by many different names; merry-go-rounds or spinners being the most common. Whatever you call them, they all have the same purpose, to see how fast kids can spin before they feel sick. For some reason the challenge of this play thing seems to entice kids everywhere. They would come running to this spinning torture device as though it were decorated with candy. They all come off of it with their faces nearly green with nausea.

With all of these wonderful attractions, who would notice the quiet red haired teen sitting on a tire swing at the edge of the woods? Her dark pants and shirt seemed to hide her well in the shade of the giant oak. This spot was hers. It had been hers for six years now. The tree itself bared evidence of this. Carved in the bark were hundreds of different symbols and phrases from the pocket knife that she now was twiddling in her hands. She looked back on her work that now curled its way around the tree. Isabelle smiled when she came across a passage on the tree at least seven years old. This passage was the only one she shared with another person. They both had written on the tree, having their own conversation, beginning with her.

_Why here, of all places, did fate choose to dump me? _

_You probably deserve it._

_But who are you to say that I am deserving of what I have been given?_

_I guess I'm not. _

_Who can really deserve to not know who they are? Who deserves to have unexplainable things happen to them out of thin air? Who deserves to get yelled at for things they can not explain? Why do I get blamed for things I didn't even do? _

_I can help you._

_I need answers. _

_I've got them. We should meet. _

The afternoon after she had received the last message she came to her spot to find a golden haired boy sitting in her swing. She kept her distance for half an hour hoping he would disappear. She had no such luck. Slowly she approached the boy, to see that he was sleeping. He was her age, about seven at the time. His skin was pale enough to rival hers. This was the boy who had been writing to her? How could he possibly have the answers she was looking for when she herself couldn't figure them out?

She was about to leave when the boy stirred. His slicked back platinum blond hair shimmered as his head shook in an effort to wake up. His eyes pinched together before slowly opening to reveal the strangest light grey color that Isabelle had ever seen they were almost silver. Slowly he sat up to face her in a proper manner. His eyebrows pulled together curiously. "Are you the person I've been talking to?" he asked in a thick British accent. His voice sounded accusing and slightly arrogant.

"Yes," she answered, uncertainly. Even at this young age her voice held a strange musical note to it. Her long red hair was brushed back behind her shoulders. She could feel it moving against her back with the wind. Her head tilted to the side curiously while staring at the boy, aiding in the winds attempt to play with her hair. "Who are you?"

"Draco Malfoy," he replied. There was a proud note in his voice that was enhanced with him sitting up straighter in his seat and looking down at her like a king on his subjects. He would soon learn otherwise.

That was the beginning of everything for her. He told her that she was a witch, explained what it meant, and he taught what little he knew. The two miraculously became friends, sharing a close bond with each other. He had introduced her to everything, and she was the first person that was not a member of his family that truly cared for him.

The day that Draco got his letter to attend Hogwarts was both exciting and heartbreaking because Isabelle hadn't gotten one of her own, although she was clearly a very good witch. Draco had considered separating himself from her because if she wasn't permitted to attend Hogwarts and he was that meant that she wasn't good enough. But he had seen what she could do, and he couldn't believe that she didn't make it. He hated to admit it, but she was better than him.

He had also suspected that she was a mudblood at some point in time. His father had taught him that mudbloods were bad, that they tainted the world by breathing, along with muggles. His father had told him that people who haven't grown up with this knowledge don't deserve to have it, and that they should keep it within the old families. This girl was different. He made sure she knew about everything he could tell her before Hogwarts letters were sent out. Her family had to have been important if Hogwarts didn't send a letter to her, because the Hogwarts lettering system goes by a jinxed list, every magical person is on there. Someone would have had to personally taken her off, meaning that she was known to someone. Draco had come to the conclusion that they did it for her protection.

The second he began telling her about magic she wouldn't let him stop. Every time he would come home with his school books she would take them and become an expert on the entire book. When he was gone they wrote to each other daily and even tried to keep in contact with the use of the fire places. He would come back every holiday break to see her. At one point in time during his second year he found a pair of mirrors that allowed them to speak to one another. This was vastly more convenient than the fireplace, and they both seemed to like the mirrors.

They would talk about a variety of things; none of those included his peers at school. It was the one topic that they both avoided for two separate reasons. His reasoning was because both his friends and enemies in school bothered him, and he did not like discussing things that bothered him when he was talking to her, when he was with her or talking to her he was happy and didn't want to ruin that. Some part of Isabelle knew this and caused her to avoid the topic as well. Isabelle knew that if she heard about Hogwarts and how many friends he had there, what his life was like, she would envy him. She didn't want to know about what she could never have.

It was near the end of his third year when Isabelle's family was interrupted from dinner with a knock at the door. Isabelle was surprised to find the old man with long grey hair and beard, and bright blue eyes shining from under half-moon spectacles that she had come to know as Albus Dumbledore Headmaster of Hogwarts standing on her front porch. He arrived to inform her that it had just come to his attention that she had not received her Hogwarts letter. He told her that she, indeed, was supposed to be attending Hogwarts and would have to start the next year.

Draco was elated when he heard the news that she would be joining him the next year. He had just suffered a horrid blow to both his ego and his face when he came in for dinner. Hermione Granger, the mudblood, had just punched him. His owl came in late that day and he doubted that even a letter from Isabelle could bring him out of his horrible mood. When he opened the letter he nearly jumped from his seat in excitement, rewarding him strange looks from his companions. He never reacted this way in front of them. He turned his attention to the teacher's tables to see Dumbledore staring down at him with penetrating blue eyes and an all knowing smile on his face. Draco had gone to the Headmaster earlier that year and told him about Isabelle, well, more of complained about how stupid this school was for not acknowledging her existence or power.

She smiled at her memories through the years as she lazily swung back and forth from the tree. Her luggage was packed and she was waiting for Draco. He said something about a Quidditch match and famous wizards and he instructed her to be ready and waiting for him today. Dumbledore was supposed to be picking her up from the match to take her to Hogwarts personally. He told her that this type of special treatment was necessary for her because of her age.

"Isabelle," she heard a quiet voice whisper from the woods behind her. She would have recognized that voice anywhere.

She tilted her head back, leaning backwards in her tire swing, stretching it to see the boy behind her. His blond hair hung in his face slightly, the way she liked it. He had a smirk on his face that looked strangely comical to Isabelle, who was seeing it upside-down. "Draco," she replied contentedly. "It's nice to see you again." She gracefully flipped body forward and landed a foot in front of him. She stood around six inches shorter than him.

He smiled at her statement, letting her know that he felt the same way. "You're getting shorter. Next time I come to see you there might be nothing left of you to see," he said, jokingly.

"Oh, shut up," Isabelle protested. She hit his abdomen playfully with the back of her hand, something that he had long since gotten used to. It never hurt him to begin with, and he didn't mind. He actually missed it when he was in school.

The smile on his face grew larger. "Is that your stuff?" he asked, inclining his chin to the bag behind her.

She glanced back at it before returning her eyes to him. "No, that's just a bag I decided I wanted to bring with me for kicks," she replied sarcastically. Despite her sarcastic comment she couldn't hide her happiness from him. Her bright green eyes were animated with anticipation.

"Well how am I supposed to know?" he demanded.

"Oh, I just thought you were all knowing, Draco," she mocked. He could tell that she was distracted. She even ignored his eye role.

"Excited?" he asked with a small smirk on his face.

Her smile grew larger. He could have sworn that she was glowing brighter than the sun at that moment. "Yes!" she said happily.

He laughed freely, something that he never did at Hogwarts. He put his hand on her blood red hair and ruffled it up causing it to fall messily in her face.

Her expression changed to that of a pouting child. She blew at one of the strands of hair in front of her brilliant green eyes, trying to get it away from her. It fell back in the same place it had been. Draco's laugh grew louder. It was amazing that just five minutes with her was ten times better than his entire year at school. If he had ever laughed like this in school everyone would think he had gone insane. She began to fix her hair, combing through it with her fingers. "Tell me again what Dumbledore said," Draco requested once he gained control of himself.

"He said that my family hid me for my safety. My family was supposedly well known, but no one in the wizarding world knew that they had a daughter. Since no one knew that I existed, there was no way that anyone could know how to find me to send me a letter," she told him again.

"But I found you," he replied arrogantly. His face lit up, like it always did when he boasted.

"You did," she said quietly, turning to her suit case to hide rolling her eyes. She took out her wand, hiding it from the non-magic children on the playground. She tapped it against the heavy bag, put her wand away and picked up the bag effortlessly. Dumbledore had told her that most of the wizards brought a trunk to school instead of a bag, but she did not own enough stuff to need a trunk yet, nor did she have enough money to buy one. She could just barely afford her wand.

"That's new," he said observing the wand now sticking out of the back pocket of her jeans as she bent to grab her trunk. "What happened to the wand I bought you? Broke it already, did you? You always were clumsy."

"This coming from the boy who trips over tree roots," she replied, smirking. She glanced back at him to see him flush indignantly.

"I do not," Draco snapped. "You didn't answer my question." He always was impatient, Isabelle thought, her lips twitching up into a smile at the remark.

"You bought me A wand Draco. Dumbledore took me to Olivander's and found MY wand. I still have the wand you gave to me. It's in the bag," she explained.

Draco took the wand from her to get a better look at it. Isabelle spun around quickly reacting to the strange feeling of the wand being taken from her back pocket. "It's red, an interesting color for a wand. What is it?" he asked curiously as he turned.

"Bloodwood," she answered, "With a dragon horn handle. Dumbledore said that I got a luxury wand."

"When you've been spoiled all your life what does the old coot expect," he said coolly. She glanced over at him, a frowned setting on her face. She didn't like talks that got this close to things she tried to block out. The truth was that she hadn't been spoiled at all. She took the wand from his hand and put back in her pocket. He hadn't finished looking at it, but the look on her face told him not to contest her.

Draco could see that he had bothered her with his comment. "You know I didn't mean that," he said. She was rarely ever unhappy like this. He didn't normally try to fix his mistakes with others, only her. He had known her for eight years; no one smart like her had ever stuck with him for that long.

"I know," she replied icily. She began walking, knowing that he'd take charge of direction since she had no clue where she was going. She let the awkward silence continue for about a minute, letting him know that he wasn't completely forgiven. She had learned a long time ago that Draco wasn't a saint.

When she first met him, he was a complete brat. He was spoiled by his parents, being an only child. He had been arrogant and thought of her as little less than dirt. While he was teaching her magic, she was teaching him. He had told her of his aversions to mudbloods and muggles. His suspicions of her being one had almost tore them apart. It got the point where he would yell at her every time she got something wrong. When he called her a mudblood she'd had enough. She didn't return to him for two weeks, and every day of those weeks he waited for her. By the fifth day he finally realized what he had done that had caused her to become so angry. It was in the time that she gave him to think over what he had done when he figured out how much she actually mattered to him. When she came back he practically begged for forgiveness. It was one of the rare occasions that Draco had actually used the words 'I'm sorry'. That was when he was younger, now he never uses those two words, it's as though they are taboo to him.

"Dumbledore said that he would be picking me up from the World Cup-thing. I have to get to the school early because I need to be tested for my year and sorted. What are the houses known for again?" Isabelle asked, breaking the silence.

He smiled to himself, happy to have her talking again. "Slytherin is known for its cunning and resourcefulness. Ravenclaw is known for its brains, if you ask me they are a bit lacking in the common sense area. Hufflepuff for its loyalty and patience, I would leave school if I ever got into this house. That's where they put the lot that doesn't fit anywhere else. Griffindor is known for its supposed valor, and bravery," he replied.

"I wonder what house I'll be in," Isabelle mused.

"I'd say Slytherin. You are smart and you use me to get you books, I'd say that's the most resourceful thing you could do," he replied proudly. He had a strange way of making compliments sound like they were in some way about him.

"That just shows how that I don't know any other wizards or witches. I am not in the least bit resourceful," she said. "You just said that brains go with Ravenclaw."

"Yes, the brains and crazies are all in Ravenclaw, on second thought, you'll fit right in." he joked. Everyone in Hogwarts took him serious when he joked like this, he was glad that she didn't take offence to it. It was either they were offended or didn't get it.

"What house do you want to be in?" Draco asked hesitantly. He wasn't quite sure he wanted to know what she wanted because he knew that she would do well in Griffindor or Ravenclaw. They'd probably be better choices for her than Slytherin as well. Despite this knowledge he wanted her with him.

"I really don't know. I like the sound of Ravenclaw," she replied.

"If you get into Ravenclaw I have the license to call you an insufferable-know-it-all for the rest of your life," he said. "You don't want to hang out with that lot. That's where they sort all of the brains, loons and crybabies. These nerds eat, sleep, and breathe books."

"I _do_ eat, sleep and breathe books, and I'm not exactly powerful," she countered.

"Yes, but they are merely book smart. Slytherin members know how to use that knowledge quickly to their advantage," Draco boasted. Isabelle opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Draco again. "Slytherin is also run by the potions teacher. You said that you like potions because it reminds you of cooking. Why anyone would cook by hand is beyond me but if you were in Slytherin you'd be in good favor with the professor."

Isabelle's eyes narrowed as she looked at him. "You just want me to be in Slytherin because you're in Slytherin," she guessed, seeing through his disguise.

Draco looked over at her. "It would make my year considerably better if I knew that you weren't off gallivanting with someone like Potter," he said. He made sure to say it in a tone that he knew wouldn't completely give away how much he was truly concerned for her.

"Potter?" she asked.

"Harry Potter, this boy that I despise," he replied. "He and his group are simply awful." And unfortunately the exact type of people she would get along with, he added in his head. "I can't stand any one of them. Hermione Granger is in that group. The girl who always takes the books you ask me to get for you."

"And what houses are they in?" she asked innocently.

"Griffindor, the lot of them," he said. "Potter and his stupidity will get him killed. Granger is smart, if you ask me she should be in Ravenclaw. It's no great mystery how Ronald Weasley got into Griffindor though. His entire family has been in the house, all seven of them, not counting his parents."

"_Seven_," Isabelle stated incredulously.

"Yes, seven. My father says that you can always tell a Weasley apart from any other family because they always have more kids that they can afford. They're all redheads and all have hand-me-down robes, and second hand books," he recited.

Isabelle frowned. "You really are incredibly tactless," she muttered eyeing him through her blood red hair.

"What was that?" he asked, not hearing her.

"I like hand-me-down's. They have a history that new things would never have. A new necklace can't hold a candle to an antique that has been worn by royalty, and still holds its diamonds. Some of the best gifts ever given are old."

"Well, jewelry is one thing. But ten year old, holey clothes are another," he said acidly. He stopped in front of a small plank of wood in the middle of a clearing. "Here we are."

"A Portkey?" she asked. She had read about them a few years ago. She heard that they felt strange and were incredibly forceful.

"I trust you know how they work," said a voice that reminded Isabelle of a snakes threatening hiss.


	2. Meeting the Parents

"I trust you know how they work," said a voice that reminded Isabelle of a snakes threatening hiss. She turned to find a tall man with platinum blonde hair that was less than an inch shorter than her own. This man had grey eyes like Draco, but, unlike Draco, his eyes were lifeless. He was holding a back cane with a silver snakes head handle. The man was wearing black robes that seemed to contrast with his bleach blonde hair. With his up tight pose, all black clothes, and angry expression he gave off an air that told Isabelle that being close to him would be a bad idea. If she had any choice in the matter she'd be at least twenty feet further from this man than she was now.

"Yes, sir," she replied respectfully, knowing that it meant a lot to Draco for her to meet his family.

Draco stepped forward immediately. "Isabelle this is my father, Father, Isabelle," he said.

"It's nice to finally meet you," Isabelle said, offering him her hand.

"Likewise," Lucius replied in a voice that seemed to scream the contrary. He glanced down at her hand as though it were a snake ready to bite him before putting his leather gloved hand in it.

Narcissa Malfoy stepped up behind her husband. She was blonde as well, though her hair and more of a yellowish color to it than the Malfoy men's did. She had on bright red lipstick and a button up jacket that stopped just above her knee and a pair of black pants underneath it. It looked terribly expensive. "You are the witch girl that Draco has told us so much about?" she asked, stepping around Lucius to get a better look at her. "My, my you are a pretty little girl," she said in almost a condescending voice.

"Thank you," Isabelle said, unsure of herself. She never really knew what to say when given a compliment, 'thank you' never sounded right to her. Draco smirked slightly beside her, knowing her discomfort.

"You've finally gotten your letter, I trust," Lucius said to her. His tone was even more snobbish than that of his wife's.

"Yes sir, Professor Dumbledore delivered it personally. He said that I hadn't gotten one before for my protection, but such measures were no longer needed," she explained. Isabelle had to make a conscious effort not to fidget with her hands while talking to them.

"I see..." he replied. She didn't like the way he stared at her. She felt like she was being put under a microscope.

"If it weren't for Draco, I'd probably still not know a thing about who I was. I owe him much for that," she said, trying to stroke his ego slightly.

"Yes, that's our son," Narcissa answered. Isabelle was slightly surprised to see her smiling.

"One hopes it was worth it," Lucius said acidly.

"Father," Draco said, finally speaking up. They shared a long gaze that told Isabelle that Draco didn't normally speak out like that to his father. Draco had known her for eight years, he wasn't just going to sit back and listen while his father insulted her.

"If you are okay with making friends with someone who you do not know the bloodline of so be it," Lucius retorted. He gave his son a faint half smirk that didn't touch his eyes at all. "We best be off, or we'll be late."

They all surrounded the old plank Isabelle and Draco on one side, his parents on the other and Lucius counted down. The second Isabelle's hand touched the thing she felt its magnetic pulling force just as strong as the books said it would be. She was prepared for the tugging feeling somewhere behind her navel and tried to stay as still as possible. The wind roared in her ears as it whipped passed her, playing roughly with her hair.

She was prepared for the landing and made sure to stick it; she had to prove herself to Draco's parents. Draco staggered slightly beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder to steady himself. She looked over at him with a smile on her face, betraying her thoughts to him alone. "Clumsy," she whispered to him.

"Oh, shut up," he said in a joking manner. He tried not to smile but couldn't keep it off of his face for long.

She chuckled, happy to see him smiling. He put his hand on her head, messing her hair up even more. She pulled away from him immediately, trying to make something out of the disaster that lay on her head.

It took her a few seconds to remember that Draco's parents were standing in front of them. Hesitantly she looked up at them from under her thick red hair. His mother had a wide smile on her face, the exact opposite reaction of her husband who was scowling at the two teens furiously. Lucius stormed forward, his wife at his heels.

"Lucius, dear, this is foolish," Narcissa whispered to her husband. "Draco is happy with this child. I have never seen him happier than the first day he sees her after getting back from Hogwarts."

"How do you know that she's not a mudblood Narcissa? Do you want our child hanging out with that!" he spat in a hush tone of anger.

"Of course not, but she couldn't be a mudblood if Albus felt the need to keep her from Hogwarts for protection. She must have belonged to a well-known family. Besides, she looks familiar to me. Her parents must have gone to Hogwarts. She couldn't be a mudblood," Narcissa reasoned.

"What about a blood-traitor, Narcissa? She looks the type! She looks like the kind to have a bleeding heart for those muggles. Draco will be a Death Eater, and he cannot be hindered by some muggle-lover friend that he can't let go of."

"Your son is happy, Lucius, and I'll die before I see that man ruin him like he did you," Narcissa whispered angrily, refusing to hide her contempt for the 'Dark Lord' that Lucius was such a fan of.

Isabelle and Draco followed farther behind engaging in a conversation of their own. "I don't think your parents like me," she said to him.

"My mother seems to have taken to you well enough," he said proudly. He was a mama's boy. "My father just needs time." He lied to her and he knew she'd see through it, but he had to try.

"No, he hates the fact that I was raised as a muggle, just as you did. He will look at me as though I am worthless, just as you did. But unlike you, I can't change his mind," she said.

He was about to protest but they had already caught up to his parents. His father was arguing with the muggle attendee. "What do you mean you won't accept MY money, Muggle?" Lucius furiously turned back to Isabelle. "You deal with him! Here!" Lucius shoved a giant wad of bills into Isabelle's hands and stepped back. She knew perfectly well why he chose her to deal with the man.

Isabelle sighed and walked towards the man. "Good afternoon," she said lightly.

"Good afternoon to you too, are you with this party as well?" he asked.

"Yes. Malfoy party of four," Isabelle said. She turned back to the Malfoy's, "Unless you have more people coming."

"No, there's only us," Narcissa replied smiling.

"Well, as I was trying to tell the gentleman over there that his money is no good here because his stay has already been paid for. He keeps insisting that I tell him how much he needs to give me," the man explained with a slightly cynical tone.

"How dare you use that tone with us, muggle?" Draco asked darkly from beside her. Isabelle turned to look at him appalled. Draco paid her no attention; he was using it all to glare at the man.

"Draco," Isabelle whispered to him, heatedly.

"What is a muggle?" the man snapped. "I have been called that by at least ten people today!"

Isabelle chuckled slightly, thinking quickly. "Oh, it's anyone who's not in the club. Call it childish if you wish, but some of the people take it very seriously. It's just a stupid club made for eccentric people with outlandish achievements. At least once a year we all get together and see who can pass themselves off as the strangest, nothing to think too much about."

"Oh, that explains a lot. I'd put my vote in for the man in a poncho and shorts, although the man in a dress comes to a close second," the muggle said jokingly, obviously wanting to be considered understanding and trendy to the group.

Isabelle laughed coolly. "I don't completely understand it either," she said, acting like she identified with him. "Where is the campsite again?"

The man gave her a map and showed her exactly where they were going to be. Isabelle thanked the man and turned back to the Malfoy family smiling.

"Cunning," Draco whispered to her. She glanced at him, catching his double meaning referring back to the Slytherin house.

"Your campground was already paid for sir," she said, turning her attention back to Lucius and trying to hand him back the giant bundle of cash.

"Keep it, I have no use for their money," Lucius retorted.

"But, it's a lot, are you sure?" she asked. The bills in the stack ranged from ones to hundreds.

"Yes, I'm sure," he replied icily.

"Alright," she said, pocketing the money. She handed Draco's father the map, showing him where their camping spot was.

"Why don't you two roam around a bit," Narcissa suggested. "Lucius and I will get your bag." Lucius looked like that was about the last thing he wanted to do.

"Um… I kind of used a featherweight charm on it, so it's not as heavy as you think it is," Isabelle admitted sheepishly.

"How can you use magic without the ministry knowing?" Lucius asked, his fury dwindling slightly in the wake of his genuine curiosity.

"Whoever hid me did a good job. Any record of my birth that used to lie in the ministry was long since deleted. The ministry couldn't possibly know when I use magic," she confessed.

"Brilliant," Lucius whispered under his breath, Isabelle wasn't meant to hear it so she ignored the fact that she did. He looked as though he were contemplating the fact that escaping the taboo was actually possible. "Run along now." He dismissed the two with a wave of his hand.

Before she could say any more Draco grabbed her arm, pulling her in a different direction than before.


End file.
